


Queenslayer

by SimoneBlack



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Jaime/Brienne smut swap 2021, King!Jaime, Masturbation, POV Jaime Lannister, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Swordfighting, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29361021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimoneBlack/pseuds/SimoneBlack
Summary: Rhaella's body had been cold for nine months and Tywin was getting desperate finding a new wife for King Jaime. Of course, no decent highborn lady wanted to be matched with the Queenslayer. Except, perhaps, the one woman who isn't afraid of him.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 23
Kudos: 140
Collections: The Exchange that was Promised: Jaime x Brienne Smut Swap 2021





	Queenslayer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zeta_Mei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeta_Mei/gifts).



> This story is for [Zeta_Mei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeta_Mei/pseuds/Zeta_Mei). I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Story Prompt: King Henry VIII inspired. Decapitated queens? An ugly maid that is unlike any woman Jaime has ever met.
> 
> Sensory Prompt: [Nina Simone: Feeling Good](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNMKGYiJpvg). Great song choice!

They sat facing each other in Tywin's solar. Gold sunlight shined in on Lord Selwyn Tarth's head, making his hair glow white. He sat tall and broad shouldered, with his hands placidly folded in his lap. “I would bid a wedding match between my Brienne, and your Grace.” He said, his grey-blue eyes shy, but shrewd.

Jaime huffed, leaning on his armrest. Of course the conversation would steer this way. “She must be quite curious about me.” Jaime said, mock courteous.

Lord Selwyn glared at Jaime openly. “She knows all about you, King Jaime.”

Jaime's eyes narrowed, feeling a burn in his veins. After Rhaella, Tywin scheduled three courtship seasons, trying to secure Jaime a new wife. For nine months, highborn ladies and their father's flocked to Kings Landing for Jaime's favour. Or so it should have been. Every highborn maid that came across Jaime's path was either too decent, or too afraid to wed the Queenslayer. It was so bad that Tywin started entreating lesser lords, and obscure lords in the corners of Westeros to find Jaime a bride.

Tywin sat behind his desk, his fingers clasped together. “Your daughter is your last living child, correct?”

Selwyn nodded firmly. “She is. A sweet, clever girl with a good heart.” He looked at Jaime again. “My wish is that she'll find joy and family in a good marriage.” His eyes made Jaime straighten up.

Tywin blinked slowly at the Lord. “You'd be wise to find a husband for your daughter locally. You're a smaller Lord and her dowry would not fit a King.”

Jaime rolled his eyes. When he wasn't frightening the maids away, his father was alienating their families. “If she accepts this courting, why isn't she here?” Jaime asked the tall Lord.

For the first time Selwyn looked uncomfortable. “Brienne is not the prettiest of ladies... but she's talented, and brave. A King would be proud to have her as a wife.”

His father wouldn't stand for this. But Jaime pressed Selwyn, fixing the older man with his deepest probing glare. “What are you not telling me about your daughter, my Lord?”

Selwyn raised his chin to Jaime. “She's not afraid of you, your Grace.” A chill ran down the King's spine. He didn't know where it came from but Jaime laughed. When had he last laughed?

This would either ruin him or save his life; but at least it was his choice to make. “She's welcome to the season.” Jaime told Selwyn, ignoring his father's refusal.

~*~

The first ball was filled with Celtigars, Velaryon's, and Baratheon's. All silver and black-haired cousins of Rhaella and Aerys.

Jaime held Margaery away at a polite distance, her yellow dress swishing around them. “You were very persistent in seeking my attentions, your Grace.” Margaery said as Jaime twirled her. Her family had rejected the first two courtship invitations, citing that Margaery was away. They had to accept the last invitation out of politeness. “You wouldn't have wanted to miss out on all this grandeur, my Lady.” Jaime told her woodenly.

She peered up at him keenly. “Yes. You would want a distraction after all the _tragedy_ your family has suffered.” Margaery jabbed with feigned pity.

Rhaella. It always came back to Rhaella and Aerys. “But we wouldn't want to mourn forever.” Jaime replied, holding back a bite of bile.

A bang sounded at the entrance of his throne room, and Jaime separated from Margaery, alert. Lord Selwyn Tarth stepped in with a tall companion by his side. Whispers grew as loud as the music as Selwyn escorted his guest to Jaime.

The woman was tall. Not nearly as tall as her father, but it was clear she took after him. She had the broadest shoulders Jaime had ever seen on a woman. Brienne's father must have spent her dowry on the fabric of her dress alone. The white lace veil covering her face was decorated with pink flowers. The skirt of her dress was an explosion of pink puffs and frills. And Jaime could still see her feet when she stepped.

She walked willingly though, and Lord Selwyn was beaming with pride. The whispers stopped when he presented his daughter to Jaime, “Your Grace. This is my daughter, Lady Brienne of Tarth.” He said, shaking Jaime's hand. Then Selwyn walked away and disappeared into the crowd.

Jaime faced the woman who stood an inch or two taller than him. Someone in the audience laughed. Jaime inhaled as he lifted her silk veil. _Stunning_. There could not have been a more inappropriate match for a King.

Jaime could feel the crowd's discomfort as he looked at his lady, taking every detail of her in. Brienne's limp yellow hair was rudely cut around her eyebrows. Her pale face was dotted with freckles, from the forehead to the chin and further down. Her nose was crooked at the bridge, a story along its irregular curve. She chewed her thick, wide lip. Jaime looked into her watery eyes. Enormous, crystalline gems as blue as truth.

Suddenly, his heart was hammering in his chest. “Dance with me, my Lady.” Jaime said, unlatching the blue flower from his wristband and offering it to her.

Brienne accepted it with surprise shining in her wide eyes. She placed her hand in his and Jaime took her away onto the polished marble floor. She was surprisingly fluid, and flowed with Jaime in a way that made him want to dance until he slept.

“Why did you decide to come here, my Lady?” Jaime asked after spinning her.

Brienne licked her lips and said, “I wanted a chance to meet you.” She sounded dull when she said it.

“Oh, don't sound so disappointed. Do you like what you see?” Jaime scowled at her.

They swayed to the music, and Jaime clutched her closer. Brienne's eyes bored into him. “You are all that I expected.” She said slow and knowingly. Then she twirled away, disappearing in the direction of her father.

~*~

The rain was letting up and Jaime was glad to be out of his tense small council meeting. Varys appeared beside him as he made his way down the hall. “Your Grace, I didn't want to say this in front of the others. There's a blockage in your sewer system, two hundred pots of wildfire have gone missing in Flea Bottom and a blue vigilante has been spotted about making mischief in the city.”

_The wildfire was missing_. All of Jaime's frustration collapsed on him at once. “FUCK!” he roared.

Varys flinched.

Jaime wondered how much worse his public image would be if he cut the Spider's head off. “You were responsible for making sure the wildfire was removed. Explain to me how you allowed it to disappear without a trace?!” Jaime snarled, standing over Varys.

Varys met his glare. “You might want to turn your thought to the guests of this current courtship season. Some of them are still upset about your last queen.” he suggested.

Rhaella. It always came back to Rhaella and Aerys. Jaime would have to alert the little spy he had employed under Varys.

“Find the wildfire.” Jaime warned Varys. “This is the only time I will tell you.”

Varys tilted his head, a smirk on his face. “Of course, your Grace.”

Jaime would inspect both the sewage line and the missing wildfire on his own. But first he wanted to hit something. He went to the training yard.

The yard was muddy. Men faced off each other in little groups. Smaller boys and attendants trained at the sidelines. And there was Brienne.

“Woman!” Jaime barked as he approached her, breaking her concentration from the training dummy she was thwarting. She looked at him reproachfully. “Not the exciting battle I was expecting.” He teased.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the strawman. “My name is Brienne, your Grace.”

“And mine is Jaime.” He picked up a practice sword and swung it expertly.

He could feel the woman's eyes on him as she stabbed at the training dummy halfheartedly.

“Your father mentioned to me that you'd only marry the man who can beat you in a fight.”

Brienne stopped her swordplay. “Are you really saying that you're interested in me, Jaime?” Her eyes glittered with softness.

“I'm the one who accepted your invitation to come here, my Lady.”

“Would that all Queens could defend themselves with swords.” Brienne muttered.

Jaime glared at her. “Clear the fucking yard!” He yelled to the other men. They moved out the muddy center and Jaime backed away from Brienne. “Come, my Lady. We're having a dance.”

She followed him, sword up and ready. Her ugly freckled face hardened in concentration.

He let her strike first. A sword thrust that would have impaled him, had they been in battle. Jaime sliced it away and aimed for her shoulder. She blocked him.

They sprang apart and Jaime laughed dryly. “Perhaps I'll make you my squire instead of my Queen.”

Brienne matched him step for step as he circled her. Jaime watched her red face. Her heaving chest. The way her hips jutted out as she turned to keep him in front of her. She slashed at him again. From the left, from the right. She turned, bringing her blade around in a beautiful arc. Jaime's sword clanged with her's every time.

Brienne tried a bold move; she jumped high with her sword above her head to cut him down from above. Jaime slid himself in the space between her arms, separated them apart and pinned Brienne's strong body to his. She wriggled in his embrace, her sword fell in the mud.

“According to your standards, we could officially be betrothed.” Jaime taunted. She smelled like wild earth and sunflowers.

“My personal safety is another standard, your Grace.” She said before stalking off. Jaime glared in her direction. She was just mad because she lost.

_Nothing_. His own personal search of Flea Bottom brought up neither hide nor hair of the missing wildfire. But of course, everyone had their own story of the blue vigilante, who had been seen in the area. Jaime stormed into his chambers, that evening, furious. A cooling meal had been placed under lids by his bed. He stripped his surcoat and tunic off, and peeked under the lid to see if he liked what was served. A noted floated down into his gravied beef. He opened it.

“ _I've found your wildfire_.” It said, and there were directions to a warehouse in Flea Bottom just outside his castle.

~*~

The music was too loud. But it wasn't loud enough to drown out Jaime's guest. “Your tailor is very talented, your Grace.” Taena sat beside him at his table. She was a dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty who seemed determine to suffocate him with her expensive perfume.

“I wanted a matching set.” Jaime told her distractedly. He wore a silver long coat, with elaborate dark blue embroidery. Atop his long, blonde hair sat a white-gold crown patterned with blue and white sapphires.

Jaime's eyes swept the throne room. He could not find a tall blonde head, or the freckled scowl to go with it.

“Matching for what?” When Taena placed her hand on Jaime's thigh, his leg jumped. Jaime brushed her hand away.

Brienne appeared at the edge of the dance floor and Jaime stood up. He made his way through dancing couples to her. She wore the dress he'd had made for her. Dark blue velour that clung to the curves of her tall frame, and silver lace lining. Around her was a swarm of gentlemen. Jaime nudged his way through the others until he stood face to face with her. “I knew you would look lovely in it.” Jaime said to her with a smile.

Brienne's face reddened. Her short blonde hair was combed in a neat part. “It was an unexpected gift.”

He leaned closer to her. “I didn't know the other men would enjoy it as much as I do.” He purred.

Her face grew impossibly redder. “You mock me.” She growled and fled the hall.

Jaime waited a moment before following her. He saw the edge of her dress flash around a balcony.

“Brienne.” Jaime called to her as she looked over the balustrade. “Why did you leave?”

“I don't understand why you're doing this.” Brienne turned to him, her face tight with confusion. “Why are you being kind to me?”

Rhaella. It always came back to Rhaella and Aerys. They all expected so little of Jaime. “Every day I'm having men dig out shit for a sewer to the ocean. I have traitors behind my back waiting to pounce at the first sign of weakness. Excuse me for wanting to share a little beauty.” Jaime sneered.

She scowled, her cheeks blotched red. “You know I am no beauty.” Her voice strained.

Jaime shook his head and looked at her with heated eyes. “You're not. But you should feel like it at some point.”

~*~

The training yard seemed more active than he'd ever seen it. And barely any of the men were training. They'd formed a group. Jaime came nearer, thinking they were betting on dice. He found Brienne at the center.

“My Lady, your form today was inspiring!” A tall, red haired men said, offering her a flower. Brienne thanked him and accepted it, blushing.

“Are we here to fight or flirt?” Jaime asked the group. The men took one look at Jaime and scattered.

He approached Brienne. The ginger man beside her scowled. “In the mood for a dance, my Lady? Or are you busy with your red friend, here?'” Jaime shot a glare at the man by her side.

Brienne frowned at him. “You're the one who seems in a mood today.”

Jaime grinned sharply. “I'd be happy for you to explore all my moods, woman.”

Her sweet blushed turned into an embarrassed red flood. “You're an inappropriate ass.” She snarked at him and stormed off.

Jaime watched her go, wondering if she'd come back to the yard when she cooled off. More likely when he wasn't around. He took to a training dummy. He wasn't about to cuck around with these fools. He was on his fifth swing against his straw foe when the laughter reached him.

Another group formed, with less men. “You think Red's gone off to lay her?” One man asked.

“No. The Beauty was betrothed to Ronnet once before and he broke it off! There's no way he could go through with it now!” Another jeered.

The first man brandished his coin purse. “She's still sweet on him. I say twenty extra gold that he beds Brienne before dinner.” The men laughed again and went back to their banter.

Jaime left the training yard, heading for the guest chambers. He made it his business to know where everyone was staying, especially with Varys warning him it may have been a guest who stole his wildfire.

The door to her room was wide open.

“I don't want you in here.” Brienne's voice sounded, shrill and fearful.

“Don't lie. You like to play with swords to get a cock in you.” Came red Ronnet's voice.

Brienne shrieked.

Jaime darted into her room to find Brienne pinned to a wall, Ronnet's hand around her throat. She punched him. Ronnet roared shoved his hand into the slit of her robe between her legs.

Jaime ripped the man off of her, throwing him to the ground. Jaime landed on him, fist first. He pummeled Ronnet over and over.

“Jaime!” Brienne wailed. “Stop it!” She grabbed him by the arm at the sixth strike. He was heaving when he looked into her crystal blue eyes. “I'm alright.” She told him softly. He dropped Ronnet to the floor.

Jaime's fist was covered in blood. Seeing the terror in her eyes, he wiped it on his fine embroidered surcoat. “I'm not a beast, Brienne.” He told her, shaking his head. Shaking away the image of fear in her eyes. Rhaella. It always came back to Rhaella and Aerys.

Brienne stood up and walked away from him. For a moment Jaime thought she was leaving, potentially to tell on him. But she returned to him with a bowl of water and a cloth.

She took his hand and cleaned the blood away from his wounded knuckles. “A beast would not have saved me like you did.” She told him, concentrating solely on soothing his hand.

Her cheeks were red, her freckles stood out like sprinkles of cinnamon. “But I don't know what you are.” She finally looked up, holding his hand in hers.

Jaime breathed, not answering her. No matter what, he was still the Queenslayer.

~*~

The dance floor looked much better without Ronnet and his friends skulking amongst the other grooms.

But Jaime's warrior lady was not present either. Jaime scowled and went down between the twirling couples. She was no where in sight.

Tyrion tugged on his pants leg. “Looking for your tall lady?” He asked as Jaime knelt down to talk with him.

“Had your eye on her?” Jaime teased back to his brother.

As expected, Tyrion didn't fall for Jaime's jape. “When you two bed, I imagine it will be like thunder crashing.”

Jaime felt his cheeks warm. Before he could respond Cersei bumped into him and curtsied. Jaime did not understand why his sister was there, other than to remind herself she was more beautiful than the other ladies. “I don't know why you're so caught up on that ugly cow. You best pray your children take after you.” She smirked.

Jaime was about to give her one about children and family resemblances when Robert appeared at his side. “So you fancy the ugly maid of Tarth, ha!? I heard you sparred with her in the yard. Getting too comfortable using your sword on women, eh?” He laughed heartily.

Jaime saw Tywin heading their way. “I'm sure whatever lady I choose, our children will be natural between us.” Jaime said, astonishing Cersei and Robert. He left them, with Tyrion cackling.

Jaime's room was cold and quiet when he entered. A candelabra burned dim on his stand at his bedside. Jaime stripped to his shirt and smallclothes and climbed in the bed.

His bed smelled perfumey. “I've been waiting for you, your Grace.” A hand touched his chest and Jaime jumped. He threw his blankets back and dark-haired Taena stared back at him, completely nude.

“You're confused, my Lady. If I wanted you here, you wouldn't need to sneak in like this.” Jaime said to her, fingering the blade on his nightstand.

Taena flipped her long dark waves over her shoulder, showing her breasts in their entirety. “I wouldn't call it sneaking, Your Grace. You have no guards.” Her full lips pulled into a wicked smile.

Nor would he ever. “Get out.” Jaime told her, throwing his blankets completely off of her. She launched herself at him and Jaime was immediately defensive.

Taena only brushed her hands down his chest, around his back, then she reached down low between his legs. Jaime grabbed her wrist and yanked her off the bed. “I said get out, my Lady.”

He backed her naked form towards his door. Taena tried to feel him up again. “What if I ran through the halls screaming bloody murder?” She taunted.

“I hope you don't go hoarse.” Jaime replied, urging her further while trying to touch her as little as possible.

“Will you cut my head off if I don't leave, like you did the Queen?” Taena threw at him.

“If you ask nicely, I just might.” Jaime promised her as he threw his door open. There stood Brienne; tall, cloaked and angry.

“What are you doing here?” The woman asked accusingly. Presumptuously.

“I'm getting her out.” Jaime indicated Taena.

Taena stopped struggling against Jaime and observed Brienne with a sneer. “Is this your one bodyguard, your Grace?”

Brienne's face became impassive. “My lady, please let me escort you.”

Jaime was finally irritated. “No.” He let Taena go and stood foot to foot with Brienne. He undid the cloak at her throat and threw the raggy wet material at Taena. “Get the fuck out or I'll get you out.” He warned her.

Taena covered herself and left them with one last heated glare.

Jaime looked at Brienne. She was wet from head to toe. Her yellow hair stuck around her face. Her freckled skin looked ashen and drowned. “ _You_.” He commanded her. “Come with me.”

He turned from her surprised gaping mouth and went to his bed. He poured two cups of wine and offered one to Brienne as she ventured cautiously to him.

He leaned back on his bed and looked her up and down. She wore brown boots, blue breeches and a soaked white tunic that clung to her small breasts. “I want you to change, my lady. You're dripping water all over my floor.” He told her as he watched her sip.

He went to his armoire, where he kept his under clothes, and pulled out a shirt and undershorts for her.

He handed them to her and watched her reaction. As expected, she rejected the clothes. “I should be getting back to my room.” Brienne mumbled.

“I have questions to ask you.” Jaime said in a tone that brooked no argument. Then his eyes swept over her. “Get comfortable. Feel welcome. You'll be here for a while.” He promised her.

Brienne undressed and redressed with Jaime's backed turned. Her pert nipples stuck out underneath the cotton of his nightshirt. His shorts were tight around her hips, riding up to the top of her thick thighs. Jaime beckoned her to the head of his bed. She sat by his pillow.

Seeing Brienne in his clothes, in his bed, Jaime said the first words that came to him. “You look like you're finally home, my Lady.”

She frowned, her hands in her lap. “Your Grace, this isn't proper.” She said softly.

Jaime reached down to her ankles and brought both her feet into his lap. Brienne laughed as her legs went up. “To hear the swordmaiden preach about propriety.” Jaime sighed. He took hold of her left foot and kneaded from the ball of her foot to her heel.

Brienne sighed and let her head rest back on his pillow. Between her legs, Jaime could see a wet patch forming in his shorts. “Why are you here, Brienne?” Jaime asked her, working on her toes.

She rotated her hips. “I heard that you had Varys make Taena come to your room.” She nearly moaned.

_Varys_. Jaime rolled his knuckle down the arch of her foot. “And you thought you were saving the virtue of some other maiden?” He questioned the woman.

Brienne's short's grew wetter. “I was making sure she was safe.” Brienne sighed.

Rhaella. It always came back to Rhaella and Aerys.

Jaime switched to her other foot.

“I'm surprised you're not curled up with one of your numerous suitors.” Jaime suggested, watching her.

Brienne wiggled her toes. “After you beat Ronnet nearly to death no one will approach me.” She told him.

Jaime listened and massaged, pressing at tense points in her feet until they became soft and buttery.

“ _All_ your suitors avoid you?” Jaime asked her pointedly. She didn't seem to understand, spreading her knees to relax more.

Jaime prodded the sensitive skin of her feet, getting her attention. She looked at him, confused. “No other men speak to me. But I hear them talk in the training yard.” She sounded annoyed.

“I guess I should try harder for your attention.” Jaime said.

Brienne looked at him, her eyes great orbs of terror and disbelief. Between her legs, his shorts were soaked. “You're still wet, my lady.” Jaime said to her.

She sat up and touched her short hair self-conciously. “Your clothes suit me well.” She said.

Jaime rubbed up her leg to the back of her knee. “No. You're wet between your legs. My shorts are drenched with _you_.” He murmured. Her knees snapped together. Jaime laughed.

“There's no shame in it,” he assured her, reaching to place her foot back in his lap. “It's natural.”

Brienne laid back, face troubled, and placed a hand over her sex to hide her want. Jaime watched her beneath his lashes. “Do you touch yourself, Brienne?” He breathed.

She peered at him suspiciously, blinked and then blushed furiously.

Brienne moved her hand from her cunt and hugged her chest. Before she could deny herself, Jaime suggested, “You can touch yourself here. I wont intervene or overstep.” He offered her.

Brienne frowned at him, working out a puzzle in her head. “I've never...” She tried weakly.

Jaime laid one of her feet behind his back and the other in his lap to spread her legs. Her chest heaved as she watched him nervously. “Touch your breasts.” He suggested to her.

Brienne slid her hands under his shirt, cupping her small mounds just where his eye couldn't see. A shuddering breath left her as he watched her hands move beneath the cloth.

He kept rubbing her skin, never venturing above her knee. “Touch your nipples.” He gasped. “Softly.” She did. He could see the shape of her fingers going over her peaks, up and down torturously slow.

“How does it feel?” Jaime asked her, before sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

Brienne parted her lips. She licked them. “It feels...” her voice trembled.

“You can touch lower.” He encouraged in a rough whisper.

She did, her hands skimmed down her flat muscular stomach. “Lower.” Jaime suggested, her legs felt hot in his hands. He could see the goosebumps raising on her freckled skin.

Her fingers shook when they disappeared into the wet shorts she was wearing. The redness on her cheeks faded to a rosy flush. Her chest heaved, her nipples stiffened to points.

“Yes!” Jaime gasped. “Where does it feel good?”

Her back arched. “Here!” She sighed. Her fingers swirled underneath the cotton. Her legs bent and twisted. She whimpered.

“Stay there, Brienne. Keep touching there.” Jaime encouraged, fighting every instinct to fall on her.

“Jaime!” Brienne called his name and it nearly broke him. He touched her stomach, hand going no lower or higher as she writhed in pleasure.

Brienne cried out with her release. She was shaking. Her mouth dry from breathing too hard. Jaime slid his hand away from her stomach. Her eyes were on him, heavy lidded and wanting. He pressed his hand to his cock, showing how much he wanted her.

“You should sleep.” He told her.

She looked at his hand covering his cock. “And you?” She asked.

Jaime jumped on the bed beside her. “Your presence is all that I need.” She gave him a wry smile. Jaime put his hand over his heart. “I promise you shall remain innocent, come dawn.”

Brienne was still smiling as she layed down in his bed, with her back to him. He ventured his arm forward and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her to him. She nestled close and after what seemed only a few moments, her slow even breathing reached his ear.

~*~

Jaime climbed into his marble tub, welcoming the heat to drain away the pains of another long day. The scent of sunflowers and wildflowers was all around him as he let his head fall back to the rim of the tub.

His door opened and the intruder approached his bath. Jaime peeked one eye open. Brienne stood over him wearing a turquoise velour and lace dress he'd had made for her. She was scowling, her dagger pointed at him.

“Varys, Taena and Adrian Celtigar are dead.” She said.

Jaime didn't bother turning his head to look at her. Instead, he stared at his arched ceiling. “Indeed they are.” He confirmed. “I swung the sword.”

“I know about your wildfire.” Brienne told him, waving her blade a bit.

Jaime looked at her then. “And?”

She sniffled. “And?! You killed everyone who knew about it. Am I next?” She asked him.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “So the blue vigilante has the Queenslayer all figured out.” He drawled.

“You took my armour.”

“I was having it cleaned.” Jaime replied simply. “It was a little faded after your late night swim.”

“You want me defenseless.” Brienne accused.

“Oh yes! Brienne the Blue as helpless as Rhaella and Aerys. The perfect sibling pair.” Jaime sneered.

The blade trembled in her fist. “You joke about it like it was nothing! You act like what you did never happened!”

Jaime stepped out the tub, His naked body sloshing water all over the floor. Brienne's dagger followed his every movement. She held the blade to his heart. Jaime wrapped his hand around the metal. The sharpness biting into his palm felt like betrayal and relief. He pulled Brienne in by the knife, wrapping his other arm around her waist when their chests bumped together.

Jaime kissed Brienne softly on the cheek. Heard and felt her gasp. He kissed her to the ear. “Killing Rhaella and Aerys was my finest act.” He whispered to her. “And I would do it again any day.” He stepped back, watching her reaction.

The knife dropped to her side. “How can you say such a horrible thing? Your Queen and Lord Commander were the closest people to you!” She stood to her full height. “I came here to either love you or kill you.”

Jaime blinked slowly and nodded his head. “My brave woman is here to do what other men should have.”

“Don't you mock me!”

“I loved Rhaella.” Jaime snapped, glancing at Brienne's quivering lips. “But she grew rotten. Maybe she always was. Maybe I was a fool.”

The redness from Brienne's face faded as Jaime told it all. “It had been months of gold going missing, before I realized she'd been having wildfire made behind my back. Hundreds and hundreds of pots hidden in every corner of the city.”

Brienne gasped, paling.

“And Aerys...” Jaime sighed. “The Lord Commander of my Kingsguard was fucking my queen. Rhaella's plan was to hold the city hostage until I gave Aerys my crown. I killed Aerys right there in that room where I caught them fucking. And I beheaded Rhaella before the entire city. So Brienne, if you feel that is good enough reason to take my head, or Varys or any of the other shits. You're welcome to try.”

Brienne sniffled, wiping away a tear. “Why doesn't anyone know this? Why do you let people hate you, when you're a hero?”

Jaime pulled her body to him, smiling. He swiped her tear away with his thumb. “If everyone is distracted by the horrible Queenslayer I can remove the remaining wildfire safely, without causing a panic. Varys, Taena and Rhaella's cousins were trying to steal it.”

“Gods!” Brienne sobbed, the knife falling from her hand. “Gods!” she said again, clinging to him. Her blue eyes were full of hope and fear. “Then what do you want from _me_ , Jaime?”

“You know.” Jaime told her. “You know exactly.” He whispered, leaning in. Her eyes drifted close. Brienne's lips were as warm, soft and moist as he'd imagined. He pulled back, and her eyes popped open. “Will you be my Queen?” He asked her, feeling his heart hammer in his chest.

Brienne looked away from him, troubled. Then she looked into his eyes, and his world could have ended right then and there. “I love you, Jaime.” She said.

Jaime kissed her again. Slowly, exploring her mouth. Her tongue tasted like raspberries and rain. He led her to their bed and she fell backward onto it, laughing.

Jaime followed her. “Tell me you'll be my wife.” He begged. He couldn't touch her again until she accepted him fully. There would always be blood on the Queenslayer's hands, and she would be stained by his touch.

Brienne looked up at him. For a split moment, disbelief crossed her blue eyes. “I will.” She told Jaime.

He surged to her, kissing her like life depended on it. Jaime undid the ties to her dress and slid the sleeves off her shoulders.

Her breasts were small and pert, with tight pink nipples and freckles everywhere. Jaime took one hard peak into his mouth and cupped the other in his palm. Brienne hissed and wiggled underneath him.

He kissed her lips before switching to the other breast. Her legs spread apart and he settled between them, pressing his shaft into her cleft.

His mouth explored lower, licking long paths down her stomach. She squirmed and laughed when he reached the hem of her dress.

He pulled the rest of her clothes off, lace smallclothes and all. Her body was long, cream and spotted. He separated her knees with his elbows and kissed the top of her womanly hair.

Brienne laughed and gasped at the same time, her hips arching up toward him. His tongue slicked a path down to her slit, and her swollen sensitive bud. Brienne tried to hold back a moan. Her thighs squeezing around Jaime's ears. Jaime lifted his mouth from her, looked up at her. “Make all the noise you want. As loud as you want.” he offered her.

His tongue swept between her folds, circling around her pearl. She writhed and arched her back. Brienne tasted of more than raspberries. She tasted of rain and hope, love and life. And he worshipped her.

Jaime slid his finger into her, and then another, curling them, to coax her to ecstasy. Brienne unravelled soon, her voice reaching to his ceiling and further than his stone walls. Her pulsing muscles echoed the ache in Jaime's cock.

He kissed her lips, dipping his tongue into her so she could taste herself. She responded, pulling his body to hers and moaning into his mouth. Jaime centered his hips with Brienne's core and sank into her. Brienne broke away to gasp his name.

Jaime thrust slow, deep and steady. Her hips responded, lifting up to meet him.

She felt slick, tight and hungry. Sucking him in as he gave all of himself. He latched onto her neck, kissing a path to her collarbone, then moving to do the same on the other side.

“You're my queen.” He breathed into her ear when she pulled him to her chest.

“Yours!” Brienne gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist to hold him in her. Her hips swirled. Jaime groaned. He thrust into her harder. He kissed her a long time, until her body arched and rolled beneath him. Her cunt squeezed and pulsed and rippled. He roared when he came, holding her to him by the shoulder and thigh.

They hissed together as Jaime slid out of her slowly. He laid on his back beside her. Moments passed before their breathing slowed to normal. “Being the Queenslayer's wife means blood, Brienne.” He admitted to her.

Brienne turned to him, her big freckled body hard and soft in equal measure. “I don't fear you, Jaime.” She leaned over and kissed him. “And I don't fear what comes.”

He couldn't have met a more magnificent woman. He kissed her back and loved her as a Queen deserved.


End file.
